


Dance With Me?

by acciogramander



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 15:05:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13661505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acciogramander/pseuds/acciogramander
Summary: Queenie hears him.In which Percival Graves just needs a soft touch, and Queenie Goldstein gives him more than that.





	Dance With Me?

MACUSA functions are always like this. Sleek, polished, with people dressed to the nines in all colors of the rainbow. Madam Picquery looked stunning in a slinky gold dress, gliding through the crowd of Aurors and foreign dignitaries and looking about ten feet tall. This was her world, one where she held the power in her hands, and nothing else mattered. 

To Graves, the room wasn’t nearly big enough. He felt as though he were being stifled. His freshly tailored and pressed suit felt much too tight and the air felt like it was being sucked out of the room. He hated these types of events – he didn’t belong here. 

Across the room, Queenie Goldstein stood alone. Sure, some fellas were trying to get her attention, but she wasn’t having any of it. Their thoughts were loud, much too loud, and she could  _hear_ everything that they wanted to do to her, and all of it made her cringe, uncomfortable. She hated functions like this purely because these guys were terrible at hiding their thoughts from her.

Only one man’s thoughts reached her through the length of the room – that handsome man she knew as the fearless Director Graves – his thoughts were just as uncomfortable as hers, even while his face remained a masked of stoic courage. She turned around, away from a man who was thinking rather filthy thoughts – and slipped through the crowd, toward the man.

“Heya, Director Graves.” A sweet voice came from behind him, and he turned away from the window he’d been staring out of and his dark eyes focused on what could be the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. Alabaster skin and roses in her cheeks, bouncing golden curls and her body swathed in rose gold. She was stunning. “Hello. May I help you?” She didn’t exactly remind him of a foreign dignitary, and she wasn’t one of his Aurors.

“Yes, yes you can. You’re upset and thinking about all the ways you could fake sickness so you can get outta here early.” She watched with smug satisfaction as his jaw went slack, and she _giggled_. “You forgot to put your Occlumency back up, honey. Now – I don’t want to be here either. How’s about I fake sickness, and you, the lovely gentleman Director, escort me home?”

He’s stunned into silence for a long moment – and then a low chuckle vibrates in his chest when his normally quick mind puts the pieces together. “Queenie Goldstein – I would be honored to take escort you home.” He offers his arm, dark eyes scanning the room and he leads her out of the room before the President can catch them. Quite honestly, he was happy escaping with a beautiful woman on his arm.

But instead of taking him down the stairs, she leads him toward the small Herbology department. There’s a balcony here, and she loves spending time here when she’s got time. “Before you take me home, Mister Graves, why don’t you dance with me?”

Graves almost startled at the question – but he very quickly composes himself. “Miss Goldstein, it would be my pleasure.” It was also a pleasure to watch her beautiful face light up the way it did when he put a hand on the sweet dip of her waist, his other taking hers. 

This woman was special – she was beautiful, and she was kind. Kindess was one thing he didn’t get much of these days, and he’s missed it. The warmth of another human being is another. She is a welcome weight in his arms, warm and reassuring. He can feel her breath on his collarbone from where she has tucked her head into the crook of his neck, her cheek pressed to his chest.

“Thank you.” He murmured, breathing in the scent of her perfume. It’s so light and airy, just like her. She walks on clouds, this girl. 

“I think a night out on the town would make a good thank you, don’t you, Mister Graves?” She whispers back to him, squeezing his hand so softly.

How could he say no to that?


End file.
